Stanza is a Weird Name
by Thomasina Rose
Summary: I suck at writing summaries, bear with me: Stanza discovers after 12 years that her mom has lied to her about her father. She thinks she knows who he is, but does that matter? There is an evil force approaching, threatening the safety of her and her new friends. Why is it that every new place that she moves, she can't last a whole year before ruining everything and disappearing?


A/N Hey this is me, Thomasina. Please bear with me and my crappy, much too short chapters. If you like it (or maybe not) and review (what is this _review_ you speak of?), you'll be my newest best friend and I'll love you for it. Any review is helpful unless you decide to be that heckler who is the most unuseful piece of poo in the history of life itself. If you are going to be a piece of poo, be a useful poo. Thank you. Now, for my first chapter ever posted on !

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Chapter One: I Hate Mondays

I hate Mondays. I have never liked them to be honest. But today was one hell of a Monday. It was the day I learned the truth about my father. It was a day that I learned my mother had lied to me since the day I was born. So let me paint the scene for you:

Imagine a small town in the lower Boston area, with lots of snow in winter and green any other time of the year. Imagine that it is a comfortable 75°F (about 24°C) outside, with flowers blooming everywhere and a warm almost-summer breeze is making the leaves on the trees sway slightly. I was practicing my flute outside, playing the newest music my teacher, Miss Rhodes, had given me the day before, out on the grassy lawn. "Stanza… could you come here for a moment?" my mother asked in a soft voice from the back porch. Yup, my name was "Stanza". Not quite my choice, but it's pretty cool...ish. My full name is Stanza Charlotte Althea Harmony Lane. It's a mouthful. My mother is highly involved with music and poetry, if you can't tell.

Packing up my flute, I replied, "Just a sec, Mom." I walked onto the porch and stood by her side with my flute and music in my hand. "What is it?"

"You may want to sit down inside with me," she answered vaguely, and led me to the living room. My mother and I lived in a somewhat small house with three bedrooms and three and a half bathrooms. Mom was a pretty successful doctor and we can afford more than we have. But we don't need much, so we don't have too much. The living room was composed of a nice leather couch and matching living chair, a couple of lamps, an end table and a fireplace. I sit myself on the couch and watch my mother take a seat next to me. She smiled nervously, and said quietly, "Stanza, you may not believe me… no, you probably won't believe me… refuse to believe me… but I need to tell you about your father."

I was confused. My father had left us when I was nine months for another woman. My parents were never married, just sweethearts from medical school. They had fallen in love; my father had fallen out of love. He was a man named Paul, but Mom wouldn't tell me his last name, saying that it "brought up with too many memories". He was a man full of himself, preferred to party than study, and he was the smartest man that she had known. That was all Mom would say to me, and then she would drop the subject. So now, after twelve years of asking, she finally tells me?

"Your father was the most amazing man I have ever known," Mom started, "but his name was not Paul." Huh? Mom sighed, "He was… unlike any other man ever known. But… he wasn't a man."

"So my father was a dog?" I asked jokingly, not knowing where this was going. My mother smiled slightly.

"No, Stanza. He was a God, a Greek God," she declared anxiously, seeming to not know how I would react.

"Wait. Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mom. Slow down. What? A _Greek God_?" I asked in disbelief. "That… that makes no sense. There's a camera filming somewhere, right? I'm being recorded for some prank TV show, aren't I?"

"No, Stanza… it's weird. I feel like this is a really hard thing for me to explain. I've wanted to tell you for such a long time…"

"Then why didn't you tell me before?" I interrupted. I was so confused; I didn't know how to respond to this new information.

"Because I wanted you to have a normal life, before the monsters came after you…"

"MONSTERS? Oh crap, I'm dead. Is there a safe place for me to be, then, away from monsters?"

"Well, the monsters haven't come after you because they can't quite sense you. You see, you have a sort of, well, 'scent' that lets monsters distinguish you from. That scent didn't really start to come out of you until you turned twelve last month," Mom explained, looking to see if I was understanding what she was saying.

"Seriously?"

"When have I ever lied to you, Stanza Charlotte Althea Harmony Lane?" my mother questioned me, and I shook my head no. "But yes, there is a safe house. A place called 'Camp Half-Blood'. It is where people like you can train to fight against monsters to protect yourselves and those around you. It's were other demigods, like you, can learn how to become heroes."

"A hero? Can't I just stay home and play flute and listen to music and write all day?" I asked, pleading that she would say yes. "Mom, I can't fight. I'm not that type of person. I'd get _killed _on day _one_!"

My mother kissed my forehead, and whispered, "Know that I love you, Stanza. I have faith in you, and I believe that you can survive any fight thrown upon you. You totally beat up that Justin kid at your old school in Boston, didn't you?"

I laughed, "He was easy. He kept trying to hit me in the face but instead I kicked his ass, literally. Plus, he totally deserved it for mocking you." Mom smiled, and held me close to her.

"You are okay with this, right sweetie?" she asked, worried.

"I just feel betrayed, Mom. You have been lying to me for the past 12 years. I want the answers," I answered, looking her in the eyes. "Am I going to this camp now, or…?"

My mother sighed again. "I received a message from Apollo," she stated, "saying that there was a great evil approaching. The Gods didn't know exactly what it was, but he could sense it—you know, being the God of Prophecies and such. He said that you were needed at camp, away from home. He wanted you at camp before the monsters could find you," she explicated. "Sweetie, I don't want you hurt. Can you pack your things so we can leave soon? The trip is pretty long."

"How long, Mom?" I asked, trying to soak in all of the information that I could.

"About four hours, and I want to get you to the camp as soon as possible. I can help you pack, Stanza, if you want me to," said Mom, getting up.

"Nah, I can do it myself. Aren't I going to finish school, though?" I asked, looking at her. I had to finish _one year_. _One year_. I wanted to finish it so bad because I wanted to prove to people that I can last a full year at school without randomly disappearing to a new school. Though this place was a camp, training is pretty much learning, so I'd consider it a school.

"No, honey. Your scent is growing stronger, day by day. The monsters will start to come after you here. They are going to cause harm. I don't want you hurt, nor does your father," my mother responded, and I looked down.

"But who _is _my father? Is it Apollo, you know, the one who contacted you?" I asked, too confused to make sense of all of this.

"I don't know. He only said that he was a Greek God, and believe me, Stanza, I had the same reaction that you are having right now. It didn't make sense. But he wouldn't tell me which God he was. He said that he wasn't allowed to tell mortals which God he was," she explained to me, "which sounded like complete and utter BS. It took so much explaining and a showcase of his powers. But still, I couldn't understand which god he was. I'm not that good at putting two and two together."

"Don't worry, Mom. I can probably figure out which god he is at this camp," I said, grabbing my flute and walking out of the room. "I'm going to go pack." Running down the stairs to my basement bedroom, I tried to think about what God he'd be. I didn't know much about Greek Gods, and world history wasn't my strong suit. I grabbed my backpack, and slid my flute and music in there first. Then I grabbed three pairs of jeans, a pair of spandex, and three t-shirts and threw them in my bag, unfolded and everything. I glanced around my room for anything else. My notebook is a must, as is my pencil case. My art journal and diary are definitely coming too. Then my CDs, DVDs, and portable DVD player for the ride were all put in my blue camouflage backpack. What am I missing…? Aha! My iPod, which never leave the house without, was put into my pocket along with my ear buds. That's everything. I'll be fine. But what about my friends? They should know about this… that I'm leaving. Grabbing the phone from the wall, I called my best friend Lavinia.

Lavinia is the closest friend I have had all my life. She has been my friend from the beginning of the school year. She's fluent in Latin, and she understands what I'm going through. She's grown up without a father all her life, too. Her mother doesn't like to talk about him, saying that being with her father was a mistake. She and her mom own a martial arts studio and Lav helps teach the karate classes.

I'm waiting… waiting… A familiar voice came from the other end, "_Salve_? This is Lavinia."

"Hey, Lavinia… this is Stanza."

"Hey Stanz, what's up? You sound worried, what's going on?"

"I'm going to this Camp thing… like, right now."

"What's it for? And why?"

"Long story. But I'll keep it short. Mom just told me my father is a Greek God."

Laughter erupted on the other side. "This is a prank call, right? Who's over at your house right now, Sammy? This sounds like her idea."

"No, I'm serious, Lav! I can't tell you who he is, because my mother has no clue herself. The camp is apparently called 'Camp Half-Blood' and it's…"

"I don't believe you, but this is a cool story, Stanz. Keep going, I'm listening."

"I won't if you only take this as a joke, I still don't quite understand it myself. But I'm leaving in less than a few hours and I wanted to say goodbye."

"Alright, then. But do you have any clues to which god he'd be? You know, the gods of Greece are almost exactly alike to the Gods of ancient Rome, save the names of most of them."

"Well, they met in medical school…"

"Done. It's Apollo, god of healing and way too much other stuff."

Apollo, huh? So it was the guy that messaged Mom…

"Thanks, Lavinia," I sighed. "I won't be coming back to school. I will try to contact you as much as possible, okay?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you aren't coming back? This is one hell of a story."

"Yeah, it's called my life."

"All right, then, Stanza. I've got to go. Little Kid Karate starts in half an hour. Call me as soon as you can, k?"

"Okay, Lavinia. Bye."

"Bye." I hung up the phone. God… no, Gods…. this _is_ one hell of a story. I sure wish that this was as pretend as Lavinia thinks that this is.


End file.
